Flawed
by starry-nights88
Summary: Everyone makes mistakes, no one person is perfect, least of all Jacob. He made a mistake once, and it comes back to haunt him when he walks into a Seattle strip club and sees how it damaged Edward Cullen's life.


**Entry for Slash Backslash 3.0**

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><p><strong>Title: <strong>Flawed

**Author: **Starry (starry_nights88)

**Rating (and warnings that apply): **M—language, sensual situations, sexual situations, light bondage, prostitution, voyeur/exhibitionism

**Summary: **Everyone makes mistakes, no one person is perfect, least of all Jacob. He made a mistake once, and it comes back to haunt him when he walks into a Seattle strip club and sees how it damaged Edward Cullen's life.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own _The Twilight Saga_. In addition to that, I do not own any of the lyrics mentioned in this fanfiction. The lyrics are from the Nine Inch Nails song _Closer_.

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><p><em><strong>Flawed<strong>___

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><p>He was tight, so wonderfully tight that it nearly hurt, but Jacob continued pushing himself into the waiting wet heat. He choked back a groan and draped himself over his lover's back as his fingers dug into smooth hips, murmuring soft praises and encouragement into his ear until, finally, he was completely sheathed inside him.<p>

"You feel so good," Jacob groaned against sweaty skin, his lips brushing against the other's earlobe as he spoke. "So fucking good—so hot for me," he breathed before falling silent, panting heavily as he leaned back. He took a moment to admire the long, lean line of his lover's back before he caressed the bare sides of the young man's body, making him shudder under his ministrations.

Jacob didn't move, he remained as still as possible, only allowing his hips to soothe and ease as he waited. It felt like he had been still forever when his lover finally pressed back into him, giving Jacob the silent signal to move. His fingers curled into pale skin as Jacob rolled his hips into the body before him, moaning softly in pleasure as his partner moved back against him.

He kept his thrusts slow—controlled and calculated because he wanted to be begged. He wanted his lover to plead with him. He wanted to see this soft spoken teenager come undone. But most importantly, he wanted to hear his named echoing in his bedroom. The dull, airy thud of skin against skin was a soft constant in the room, one he ached to change, to increase, but wouldn't. Not until he broke the man beneath him.

"Jake…"

At first his voice startled him and he snapped his hips forward with an almost vicious intent. He had never heard that tone come out of this man before. This soft, pleading voice that begged him so sweetly.

"Jake, please…"

"What?" Jacob prompted, needing to hear the words—wanting to hear those dirty words come out of _his_ mouth. He was tainting innocence and he'd get the job done right. "Tell me, baby, tell me what you want me to do," he cooed as he teased the man's sides.

"Jacob, _please_."

Jacob chuckled lowly, softly, smiling sweetly as he kept moving at the same pace. "I want to hear it," he said, his voice stern as he snapped his hips again—a promise of what was ahead if only his lover could speak the words he so desired to hear.

"Do it, please." His voice trembled and his body shook, but Jacob still wouldn't relent because that wasn't what he wanted to hear. But it was close, _so_ close. "Jacob, _Jacob_, fuck me. Please."

He smiled broadly, a sure sign of his victory as he grasped the man's hips before pulling himself nearly completely out. "As you wish," he murmured, his smile morphing into a devious smirk before he snapped his hips again, but this time it was harder, harsher, and it made the man beneath him cry out.

**x x x**

The sound seemed to echo in his ears as he awoke with a start, panting heavily and sweating profusely as he struggled to grasp what was real and what was not. It was a dream, of that much he was certain. It had been years since he's thought about him, years since he's seen _him_ and had the glorious pleasure of possessing that ass.

He pushed a hand through his damp hair, heaving a soft sigh before he untangled the sheet from his legs, trapping a soft groan in his throat as the linen dragged over his hard cock. He shook his head slowly, in disbelief at himself and his reaction to the dream—the dream that he still couldn't believe he had. He still couldn't figure out why he would've dreamt about that night, though he searched his brain for a reason.

It wasn't as though it was the best sex of his life nor was his partner anything terribly special—he had been a virgin, so inexperienced, but _so_ eager to learn and please—and he wasn't hurting for sex either, he had gotten laid just before exams had started. In the end, Jacob allotted the odd, out-dated dream about a high school hookup to being just another one of those strange erotic dreams. Probably due to stress or something akin to it.

He pushed the dream from his mind, taking a moment to consider the option of texting Paul to come over to take care of the problem that it had left behind. He was hard and horny, and could really use some human contact after that dream. But at the last minute, just before he actually sent out the text, he decided against it. It just felt _wrong_. He couldn't say why; he just didn't know. He slid his phone closed and set it back on his nightstand before he got out of bed.

He might not have been able to have sex, but he could at least take a shower and toss off while he was there. It was a nice thought—a damned good idea, at least Jacob thought so as he made his way to his bathroom, a small crooked grin on his face.

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><p>He never did go back to sleep after his shower that morning. His mind had been too alive to give over to sleep. That and every time Jacob closed his eyes to try he kept seeing <em>his<em> smiling face, _his _perfectly rounded ass, _his_ face twisted in pleasure as he came all over their joined abdomens. Jacob had been in a constant struggle throughout the whole day to keep those thoughts out of his head, all the while trying to figure out why they were there in the first place. It was now nearing dinner time and he still didn't have any relief.

"Man? Are you even listening to me?"

Jacob blinked and looked across his coffee table at his friend and roommate, Quil, before he shrugged in a nonchalant fashion. "What were you saying?" he asked politely, ignoring his friend's eye roll. He couldn't help that he couldn't focus for more than a few minutes, and those minutes were almost entirely given up to a phantom from his past.

"As I was _saying_…" Quil started, pausing to give Jacob a disgusted look before he continued. "Since finals are over, we should go out—celebrate, you know? We have ample time to rest and relax before we have to start worrying about whether or not we passed them."

Going out wasn't a bad idea; it was probably one of the better ones his friend had had because going out meant that Jacob could meet and hopefully fuck someone. Maybe then Jacob might finally be able to push the memory of that ill fated high school hook-up out of his mind for good.

"That's a good idea," Embry spoke up, his voice pulling Jacob from his thoughts, hopes, and wishes before he got to wrapped up in them. Embry was his other friend and roommate—the quietest out of their little group, but the one that kept Jacob and Quil in line. "A _real_ good idea."

Then they both looked at him, and that's when Jacob realized that he hadn't said anything. "We should, we really should," Jacob agreed quickly, nodding in agreement which made both of his friends smile broadly, excitedly. "Tonight?"

Quil snorted at that, as though the answer was obvious and for all that Jacob knew, it could've been. "Of course tonight, when else do you think we'd go? Tomorrow? Next week?" He replied, shaking his head before looking at Embry, giving him a _look_ that Jacob refused to read too much into.

"Shut up," Jacob snapped half heartily, the unsaid '_asshole_' lingering heavily in his statement as his eyes narrowed into a glare directed at Quil and then Embry when he started to snicker at the pair of them.

There was a moment of silence, maybe uncomfortable silence, but once again, Jacob wasn't reading too much into it. The silence, however, didn't last long. Silence was meant to be broken and it was Quil who took that honor. "What's _up_ with you today?" he asked, frowning slightly and looking genuinely concerned for him.

A sigh left Jacob and then he turned away from his friends for a moment, struggling with whether or not he wanted to tell them about who he had dreamt about last night and how that same person just wouldn't leave his thoughts today.

"It's…" Jacob started, turning back to his two best friends, panicking at the last moment, suddenly changing his mind about telling them the truth. Surely Quil and Embry would remember this man from high school, and if they remembered him, they'd remember the bet that had Jacob sleep with him. Then they'd tease him about holding onto the memory of fucking him. "It's just bad dreams," he answered finally, softly, shame laced in his voice, but his friends didn't call him out on it.

"Bad dreams?" Quil questioned in disbelief, poised to question these so-called bad dreams, but before he could Embry interrupted his train of thought. "It's a good thing we're going out then," Embry spoke up, his tone matter-of-fact as he looked between Jacob and Quil, giving the ladder a warning look to shut him up.

Quil didn't question the bad dreams again, but the three men did launch into a very animated discussion on where exactly they should go. Sports' bars, regular bars, night clubs, and the like were all shot down with much argument and little compromise before inspiration struck Quil and it struck him hard.

"What about that new strip club?" He suggested, his excitement clear in his voice as Embry arched his eyebrow high in surprise at the suggestion—but, he did not immediately disagree with the option. "It has a restaurant attached where we could get something to eat, a bar and a dance floor, _and_ it has male strippers for Jake too!"

All in all, it was the perfect choice—it just took the three of them another hour or so of arguing to reach that same conclusion before finally deciding on it.

**x x x**

The first thought that crossed Jacob's mind when they pulled into the club's sparsely populated parking lot was that the supposedly _new_ strip club, didn't look very new—in fact, it was downright run down and ragged looking. "New, huh?" Jacob snorted, turning to give Quil a vicious glare before the hastily blinking neon sign that hung on the side of the building caught his attention.

The joint's name—_Table Top_—flickered in curved cursive tubes colored pink and blue. It wasn't very attractive, or the slightest bit pleasing to the eye. Actually it kinda reminded Jacob of a pregnancy test, especially when he saw the two posed, neon pink and blue, scantily clad man and woman just underneath the club's name. Blue for boy, pink for girl. It was awful.

"New-ish," Quil said innocently with an added shrug just seconds before Jacob turned to face him again. Quil was met with another harsh glare and then, an added jab to the shoulder. "Ouch, man, what the fuck was that for?" he snapped, rubbing his throbbing shoulder as he met Jacob's glare with his own.

"New-_ish_?" Jacob practically growled out in obvious anger before he gestured wildly to the club behind them. "It looks like it's about to collapse on itself! And you expect us to _eat_ there?"

Wide-eyed, Quil jumped to defend his suggestion. "It's not _that_ bad on the inside," he vehemently insisted before undoing his seatbelt and pushing open the car door after slinging the strap aside. He looked at Embry—who hadn't said anything up until this point—and pinned him with a pointed stare. "You'll come in with me, won't you Em?" He asked, sounding confident and self-assured as Embry looked up at the building again, the neon sign casting it's blue and pink glow on his face.

It was a long moment before Embry replied. "Um, no?" he said, turning back to look at Quil. "It kinda makes me feel like I'll catch something nasty if I go inside…" Embry added by way of explanation, shrugging at Quil's outraged look. "_What_? It's looks _seedy_!"

"Seedy! Where do you get _seedy_ from?" Quil snapped harshly, obviously fuming as he glared at Embry and Jacob—who was now snickering at them—before huffing and crossing his arms over his chest. "You two are just too prudish!"

"Prudish? Where do _you_ get _prudish_ from, man?" Jacob asked, taken back as he looked at Quil in surprise. "I took you to your first strip club, you ass!"

Quil's gaze turned on to Jacob now, and quite honestly, it didn't look any better than the stare Embry had been fixed with. But Jacob bore it like a man, his own eyes narrowing dangerously, almost daring Quil to counter his words. "And _that_ shithole didn't look much better than _this_ one!"

"Excuse—!"

"_Guys_!" Embry snapped, interrupting Jacob before he had a chance to finish what he was saying and possibly spark a fight that could last for _years_. "We're already here," he pointed out, looking between the two of them. "A few minutes inside won't kill us."

Jacob snorted softly at that, his disbelief still obvious. It was looking as though he'd never be convinced to go inside. "No, but I'll bet you it'll be just long enough to catch Syphilis or Gonorrhea," he murmured in reply, mostly to himself, but that didn't stop Quil and Embry from hearing it anyway.

"Jake," Embry said, his voice reminiscent of a mother gently scolding her child, as he gave his friend a meaningful look. "It might not be so bad inside," he pointed out, but really didn't sound too convinced of his own words. Jacob knew he was only doing this to stave off an argument—which was appreciated, but not really needed right now. "Come on, Jacob, just one look. If you don't like it, we leave."

Quil arched an eyebrow at Embry's words, one that suggested that he didn't really believe what Embry was saying either, but Jacob chose not to call either of them out on their bullshit. He didn't want, nor need, the added stress of an argument. They were supposed to be relaxing and unwinding after finals.

Finally, he heaved a sigh, collapsing back against his seat for a moment before slowly nodding his head. "Yeah, alright, just a few minutes then," Jacob replied before he looked at Quil. "But, I swear, if I see anything remotely questionable, then I'm leaving."

"I remember a time, one that wasn't so long ago, when '_remotely questionable_' was the only way to get you out of the house on a Friday night," Quil reminded the other two, the tone of his voice bordering on morose as he heaved a soft sigh before finally looking at Jacob. "I miss _that_ Jacob."

Jacob snorted softly, looking away from his friend as he unbuckled his seatbelt before getting out of the car. "Yeah, well, that Jacob is dead and gone," he replied darkly, unsure if he was even heard as his two friends climbed out of the car as well.

**x x x**

There wasn't a bouncer at the front of the establishment nor was there anyone to check their IDs to make sure they were of age before they let themselves into the strip club, simply pulling open a door and walking in as though it was a convenient store. The ease of access made Jacob frown as they stood in the entry way—Quil excitedly glancing around and Embry cautiously taking in his surroundings. Jacob didn't want to admit it and he wouldn't out loud, but he had to reluctantly agree that the inside _did_ look marginally better than the outside.

Regardless of the sentiment, the place still held an aura of filth—dirty work that Jacob just couldn't put his finger on, but saw in the carefully sensual smiles of those that passed him by. The interior was spotlessly cleaned, almost _too_ clean for a club such as this. It was well kept and well managed, staffed with people who were properly groomed and polite looking. But, underneath it all, Jacob sensed a layer of _sleaze_ that stuck to the place like a fine film.

It felt like the sort of place that he expected to find in his sisters' dime store dirty erotica novels—a place that catered to, for the right price, backdoor deals and sexual favors. It suddenly wasn't _just_ a strip club, it felt like a fucking brothel. He looked over his shoulder, glancing back at the ever silent Embry, all the while wondering if his friend was picking up the same thing that he was. Frowning, Jacob looked back at Quil who didn't seem to have a care in the world as they came upon the bar.

It was empty, nearly bare of patrons with just a single bartender behind the long, wooden bar stained a deep, dark brown. Just a few people sat at the bar in stools, clinging to their drinks while an even smaller number handed over money and received a ticket in exchange. A ticket for what, Jacob wasn't sure. Nor did he care to know what kind of trouble it would bring.

"Any more slots opened for Masen?" Quil asked as he leaned against the bar, patiently waiting for an answer as the bartender pulled a ledger from beneath the bar.

It was then that Jacob noticed that the bar didn't serve _just_ alcohol. He felt his stomach clench as a lump rose into his throat as he took in the dozens of cards that littered the back wall. The cards were all the same size, longer than they were wide, and every single one of the cards had a name on it—either a male or a female name—and, finally, under most of the names there were symbols. Some names had a single symbol, but then some names had as many as three or four.

Masen, he realized with a start, was one of the cards that had the most symbols beneath the tidy printed black inked name. There was no key, no indication of what these symbols meant, though Jacob was sure that it wasn't something he wanted to nor needed to know. He tore his gaze away from the wall, and name card, before looking back at Quil.

"Don't be late, yeah?" The bartender warned sternly as he passed a ticket to Quil. "If you're late, you won't get in and you _won't_ be refunded, got it?"

Quil took a moment to look annoyed as he shoved the ticket into his pocket. "I _got_ it!" He replied, rolling his eyes before he turned away from the bar and beckoned for Embry and Jacob to follow him. He said nothing to explain his odd behavior at the bar as he led them further into the club, turning into a room that was lined with chairs with a stage taking up the entirety of the furthest wall.

"Grab a seat, the show's about to start," Quil said quickly, quietly as he plopped into a seat before looking up at them, obviously expecting that they'd do the same. They did, but only after the lights had dimmed and the stage lights flickered on.

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><p>He stood just shy of the curtains; tall, silent, and invisible to the slowly growing crowd on the other side while he anxiously waited for his cue. He struggled with his nerves as he stood there, the unease welling and blooming as he waited for his music to start. He would've thought—no, he would've <em>hoped<em> that he would have outgrown the stage fright by now. After all, he had been doing this for the past three years.

Despite his bouts of performance anxiety before taking the stage, dancing was second nature to him and, more often than not, simply the means to get what he really wanted out of the men and women who came in to see him. The show was just that, a _show_. A teaser of something more that could be purchased…if the price was right.

It wasn't widely known, not knowledge made public and definitely not advertised, but _Table Top_ wasn't your average strip club. It was a guise, a _façade_ that few people were privileged enough to see behind and fewer still had the money to buy. The shows were always free, but tickets could be bought that would open the door to the _carnal_ side of the club.

And the carnal side was what _Table Top_ was quietly known for.

If you liked a dancer, you bought their ticket and that ticket was your guarantee to an hour of their time—an hour of no-holds-barred pleasure. And _that_ was what he wanted from his clients. They could keep their tips, their gifts, and their dirty fantasies if only they bought his ticket.

The music kicked to a sudden, unexpected start and the sound startled him. He could hear the announcer begin his introduction over the slow, hypnotic beat of the song as he silently counted down the seconds until his performance began. _Ten, nine, eight_. He closed his eyes and allowed the rhythm of the music to take him away. _Seven, six, five_. It helped to calm his nerves; now he was alive with excitement and not fear as the seconds ticked away, one by one. _Four, three, two…_

…_One_.

"And, finally, it's my glorious _pleasure_ to present to you, the man of the hour—whose ass is so unforgettable that _I_ guarantee you'll be dreaming about it for years to come—Masen. For _your_ viewing pleasure!"

His eyes snapped open at the sound of his stage name and just like that, _Edward_ ceased to exist. He released a breath he hadn't realized he was holding and his nerves seemed to melt away with the first few lyrics of the song he performed to: _You let me violate you, you let me desecrate you_.

He could do this—_Masen_ could make this happen and Edward was willing to allow it. He sighed deeply, steeling his resolve before he stepped from the shadows and onto the brightly lit stage. The spotlight blinded Edward and he could feel dozens of eyes on him as he let the music move him as though his body was caught in a trance.

And maybe it was.

Edward twisted, swayed, and turned with the beat of the song. The melody guiding his movements as he ran his hands along his body, his fingers skimming the plain white cotton of his dress shirt before slipping underneath the garment to tease himself. The crowd _loved_ it. He could hear their hoots, hollers, and sometimes he thought he could hear their fantasies.

_You let me penetrate you, you let me complicate you_. The lyrics of the song had always left him feeling dirty, sexy, and aroused. That was why he chose this particular song. Every word pushed him further away from who he was and closer to who he _wanted_ to be. _Help me I broke apart my insides, help me I've got no soul to sell_.

He took the buttons one at a time, unbuttoning them with a mastered precision that revealed his skin bit by agonizing bit. He was teasing them, he loved teasing them, it was what he was meant to do—tease them and make them pay for the rest if they so desired it._ Help me the only thing that works for me, help me get away from myself_.

The shirt hung off his frame, clinging to his lithe shoulders as Edward caressed his bare chest. He closed his eyes, but he did that sometimes. He liked to lose himself. He sucked his bottom lip into his mouth and thumbed his nipples. The nubs of skin hardened into firm little peaks beneath the pads of his fingers and then he was off again, his hands skating across his body before he allowed the shirt to fall to the stage.

He opened his eyes to catch the chorus, his eyes locked with a chocolate brown gaze that seemed so familiar to him as he mouthed the next line of the song: _I want to fuck you like an animal_. It was his crowning achievement, quite easily the very best part of his act as he swung his hips and slid his hands down his sides. _I want to feel you from the inside_.

Brown eyes widened in shock and something Edward's never seen before flashed across that gaze, but it was gone as quickly as it appeared. _I want to fuck you like an animal_. There was something about that man, something about him that haunted Edward. Something that stuck to him like glue, refusing to leave him alone. It wasn't something _Masen_ thought about, but it was something that wouldn't leave Edward alone. _You get me closer to God._

It rose up within him, the recognition. It was slow going at first, but then it hit him. It felt like someone knocked the air out of his lungs and left him gasping for breath and a little sense. Edward knew those eyes. His heart clenched and a panic gripped him. Those eyes had plagued his mind, his thoughts, his dreams since high school.

That man and those gorgeous brown eyes had been his constant companion for as long as he could remember. Edward grasped for straws as he slowed on the stage, his movements awkward and unsure as though he wasn't quite sure what to do with himself as a name floated to the top of his mind.

A name that was both so simple and so harsh. The name of the man responsible for the downward spiral that Edward's life became, but it was also the name of a man he still dreamed about. The name of the man Edward still wanted. It was Jacob—Jacob Black and it was like a page from his past has invaded his present and was threatening his future.

**x x x**

Edward wasn't even sure how he managed to get through his performance as he stepped off of the stage and disappeared into the back half of the establishment. He was shaken. He was nauseous. He was sure he'd never have to see Jacob again when he left school, but there he was; like the devil Edward knew him to be.

He told himself, repeatedly—like a broken record player—that he shouldn't worry himself. It was highly unlikely that the man even recognized Edward, because Jacob never gave a shit about him in the first place. He had just been another fuck to Jacob, another fuck to use and abuse and then spread around school.

Jacob might've forgotten that horrible year, but Edward sure as hell hadn't.

It haunted his every day, his every move, his every thought. It was in everything that he did and everything that he said. The events that made up Edward's junior year of high school were so deeply engrained in his life that Edward was sure he'd never be rid of them. And all of it—_all of it_—started because he had a crush; a crush on Jacob Black.

"Hey! Hey, Mace!"

Edward paused, nearly cringing at the use of the shortened form of his stage name, before he looked over his shoulder. His manager was hot on his trail with an excited expression on his face and a sheet of paper clutched in his hand. Somehow Edward managed to keep the excitement off of his features as he faced the man. "Yes?" He answered, resisting the urge to rip the paper clean out of the manager's hands because he _knew_ what it was and it was something he'd been waiting for all evening, and dammit, he just wanted it _so_ fucking badly that he could almost taste what was to come.

"Here's your _after-hours_ schedule," the man replied, handing over the paper, and if he noticed Edward's eagerness, he never said anything. "You did really well tonight, Masen. Your last ticket sold just before you went on stage."

Emerald green eyes immediately regarded the paper, scanning over hastily scrawled names and their accompanying signatures before Edward sucked his lower lip into his mouth, he chewed on it before letting out a heavy sigh of relief. He recognized a few regulars' names and no one else. Jacob might've been there that night, but he apparently wasn't interested in the _afterhours_. Edward looked up at his boss and gave the man a deviously sheepish smile. "That's got to be some kind of record, huh?" He teased, but only received a laugh and a congratulatory pat on the back before he was reminded that he was due in the blue room at ten o'clock for his first client.

**x x x**

Ten o'clock came and went with his first client; a middle-aged regular who had been paying for Edward's time for the past few months. The man—his name Edward could never remember—had a wife, children, and a successful small business, but sometimes he just liked to fuck young men. Edward's client wasn't anything special, but he could get the job done at least and that was something Edward could appreciate, though he was glad to see him leave once the hour was up.

He had a precious few moments before his second client was due, and Edward wisely used that time to wash up and prepare himself for the next person who walked through his door. He was expecting another regular, though this man didn't visit him like he used to—busy with college or some excuse akin to that, but it didn't really matter to Edward. He didn't care. The only thing he cared about was when his next client would be here.

Edward looked at the clock and anticipation built within him, it coiled through his being like a snake as he waited and waited. He counted down the minutes and then the seconds until his next session, and everything finally came to a head when he heard the soft jiggle of the door handle. Once again, he felt _Edward_ slip away and _Masen_ take his place. A smile, soft and seductive, appeared on his face as he turned to greet his client as the door opened. "Missed you—"

The words died in his throat, and panic replaced the anticipation. He had been expecting Quil Ateara, but that wasn't who walked through the door. He could hardly form a coherent thought much less talk through this paralyzing shock, but Jacob Black didn't look much better off. Edward knew disgust when he saw it and that's exactly what was painted on Jacob's ruggedly hard features, but for some reason he didn't leave.

Instead, he stepped further into the room. Jacob was hesitant and probably wanted to bolt, but something kept him coming. Edward just didn't know what that was and wasn't sure he wanted to know as the door closed and Jacob's eyes found his own.

Edward couldn't speak, couldn't move, couldn't _believe_ that this was happening. He thought he had gotten the shock of his life when he saw Jacob sitting in the audience during his performance, but _this_—this was completely unexpected and downright horrifying.

"I never thought…"

His voice broke the fragile silence and Edward found himself straining to listen as the younger man tumbled through his words. "I wouldn't have expected…" His voice was barely above a whisper and there was such a deep, heavy shock laced throughout his tone that it had Edward gasping for air.

"What are you _doing_ here?"

The question jolted Edward out of his stupor and, for a moment, he was too surprised to answer the question bestowed upon him. But Jacob waited, looking downright sick with himself. "M-me?" Edward replied after a moment. "What am _I_ doing here? What about you? What are _you_ doing here?" He never knew his voice could carry so much venom, so much hate directed at another person.

The younger man's eyes widened a fraction and, almost immediately after being called out, shame penetrated his features. The strong, handsome, charming bastard that Edward remembered suddenly looked like a child caught with his hand in a cookie jar. He felt his lips start to curl, forming a devious little smirk as he took in Jacob's posture. He was obviously nervous, embarrassed, flat-out _ashamed_ to be here standing before Edward—and yet, here Jacob was and Edward couldn't figure out why.

"Oh, I see…" Edward said softly in a moment of realization, his tone dropping in octave as his smirk grew wider and more dangerous. He took a step closer, gauging the man's reaction before taking another step. He noticed the tension in Jacob's body, his muscles drew tight—as if anticipating a threat—with his jaw clenched and his hands clutched into fists at his sides as Edward approached. However, despite that, Jacob didn't back away.

Jacob was close enough to touch when Edward reached out, his fingers grasping the rough leather of the young man's jacket before Edward tugged him forward. Edward bit his bottom lip, resisting the urge to explore the broad chest beneath his fists as he looked up at Jacob. His grin was slow and slightly devious as he watched the question flicker in Jacob's eyes before Edward leaned up. "You want to _fuck_ me, don't you?" He whispered into Jacob's ear, delighting in the shiver that rushed through the younger man in response to his accusation.

Edward didn't even know if the accusation was true, though Jacob's reaction was telling enough. His hands came up, covering Edward's completely and for a moment they didn't even move. Edward was beginning to wonder what Jacob was aiming to do when something seemed to snap within the younger man. Jacob's grip tightened before he tore Edward's hands from his jacket, holding them in his own as his body was raked with tremors. "Absolutely not!" Jacob practically snarled before Edward wrenched his hands free from Jacob's grasp, pushing the younger man away from him.

"Why?" Edward demanded, his voice shaking with emotion as his eyes narrowed. "I was good enough for you to use in high school, why not now?"

"I didn't have to pay for sex then and I'm not going to pay for it now."

Jacob's words were like a smack to Edward's face, he nearly staggered with the force of them. It took him a moment, but he regained himself in enough time to see something curious pass across Jacob's features. "Edward…" He said, stepping forward. "I didn't mean—!"

"_You_ didn't pay for it now, either. Quil did!" Edward spat in a fury as he pushed Jacob away from him. "It was _his_ name on my list, not _yours_!"

"Quil…" Jacob's voice was barely above a whisper, so soft that Edward almost missed the name that fell from Jacob's lips, but not the way it hardened his features. For a moment he didn't speak and Edward thought they had reached some sort of stale mate, but then he saw the look in Jacob's eyes. The look of understated rage. "How long…how long has Quil been coming to see you?"

Edward had almost answered, but he stopped himself with a soft snort before he looked away from the other man. "That's none of your damned business," he replied stiffly. "And if you don't have any _business_ with me, I suggest you leave before I have you escorted out."

"You still didn't answer my question, Edward."

Edward looked up at Jacob, blinking as his lips curved into a deep frown. "Yes I did. I told you, my clientele is none of your fucking business…"

Jacob shook his head as he took another step closer to Edward, the man backing up all the while. "No, why are you here?"

There was a pregnant pause, during which Edward could barely think. His head throbbed, his heart and body ached, and he just wanted it to be over. He wanted Jacob to leave. To disappear. But he still stood in front of him, waiting for an answer to a question he didn't deserve to ask.

"You _used_ me," Edward started, his tone deceptively calm as he glared at Jacob. "You made me think that you…that you _loved_ me and then you _fucked_ me, and your stupid friends took pictures of us and passed them around at school!"

His body was shaking as the memories rushed back, one right after the other. All of them piling in his mind after he had fought for so long to forget—to forget about the taunting emails and phone calls, the kids' laughter and name-calling, the black spray-painted 'WHORE' across his locker, and finally being cornered in the bathroom by two jocks who wanted a taste of what Jacob got…even if they had to take it by force.

Edward was nearly hysterical as he got into Jacob's face, only held off by Jacob's hands grasping his upper arms to keep him away. "You had _no right_ to ask me that!" He exploded with fury. "No fucking right, Jacob!"

The rage left Edward and he deflated. He stepped out of Jacob's hold and turned away as his body started to shake, the tears finally breaking free to fall down his cheeks. He didn't look over his shoulder when he heard the door open, nor did he say anything when he heard it close. This was, after all, what he had wanted. Right? He wanted Jacob to leave, but now that he had the pain he had caused, nurtured, and pruned was still plaguing Edward. However, that was something he didn't think would ever go away.

* * *

><p>Jacob left the club in a rush. He didn't know where he was going, all he knew was that he didn't want to be there anymore. He <em>knew<em> coming was a bad idea. He felt it from the moment they pulled into the parking lot, but it was his own fault for letting Quil convince him to go in.

He stopped in the middle of the parking lot, his body tensing as he remembered the confrontation he had just had and Quil's connection to it. _That bastard_… He thought viciously, his hands clenching into fists as he turned around and started back towards the entrance, but he stopped short.

He couldn't go hauling off into the club after Quil, not for something like this—something that shouldn't matter to him, even though it kinda did. Edward wasn't part of his life anymore—he had never really been—so this jealously Jacob was feeling was completely inappropriate.

A heavy sigh left Jacob and, feeling rather dejected, he turned and finally left _Table Top_'s parking lot. He walked along the sidewalk with no destination in mind, and after awhile he shoved his hands into the pockets of his leather jacket. Jacob stiffened when his fingers brushed against the ticket he had taken from Quil and, even as he resisted the urge to do so, he pulled it out of his pocket.

It looked like any other normal raffle ticket; small, blue, and completely innocent. There was nothing on the small slip of heavy paper to suggest its true purpose. Jacob thought about throwing it away. He even stopped in front of a waste bin and held the ticket over it, but for some reason, he couldn't let go. He sighed again before shoving his hand back in his pocket and then he continued on his way.

He wondered as he walked along, cars passing him in the hazy night, what had happened in Edward's life that had changed him so drastically. Jacob couldn't believe, not for a moment, that what he did to Edward in high school was to blame. It had happened so long ago and teenagers were resilient, surely Edward had gotten over it only to open himself to something even more damaging—something that would eventually lead the young man to _Table_ _Top_.

Jacob's fingers curled into fists inside of his pockets and he felt a slight shiver pass through him as something, something soft and something he hadn't heard in a long, _long_ time suggested that maybe, _just maybe_ he had more to do with Edward's downfall than what Jacob was willing to admit.

**x x x**

Once upon a time, when Jacob was still the popular football star, there was an upperclassmen. Everyone knew his name, and yet no one knew _him_. He was a Cullen and that, within itself, was no small thing to be. His surname almost certainly guaranteed him popularity from the trails blazed by his siblings before him, but he had never reached for it. He was quiet, smart, and just the tiniest bit dorky.

He was an outcast—an outcast that watched instead of participated. He was shy, sweet, but had an aura about him, one that drew people in. Jacob wasn't the first and he certainly wouldn't be the last, but he'd be the only one to abuse it once he was accepted.

Being an outcast meant that the upperclassman was a target for teasing and bullying. It didn't matter to the student body who he was or who he was related to, he was an object of ridicule just the same.

One day, during a fit of boredom, Jacob's friends decided to use the outcast as a means to amuse themselves and like any other teenager his age striving for approval and acceptance, Jacob followed their lead.

That was the day the bet was made—the one that'd come to haunt Jacob for years. It was made because one of his friends mentioned how stuck up the youngest Cullen was, how prudish he seemed while he sat at that table all by himself. All of his friends laughed in agreement, even Jacob. A suggestion was made, the suggestion that would become the basis of the bet: _'I'd be willing to bet he'd loosen right up if he got laid_._'_

At first, no one wanted to take the bet. They all stayed quiet, not rising up to the challenge because the subject of the bet was rather stuck up, and rather prudish. Conquering him would not be easy. But Jacob had never been one to turn away from a challenge and he pointed this out to his friends.

_'You'll take him then, Jake?_'

_'Yeah, I'll take him…and, then make him beg for more_._'_

His friends laughed, congratulated him, patted him on the back and Jacob felt like he was the king of the world. He asked Edward Cullen out to a movie after the final class of the day and, to his surprise, the upperclassmen readily agreed.

That was the beginning, but Jacob could've never guessed how his friends would've ended it. He never guessed that they'd want _proof_ of him fulfilling the bet and sleeping with Edward. He never imagined that they'd take _pictures_ and pass them around to their classmates. He never thought his classmates were particularly cruel, but he'd never forget the glistening, black letters spray painted across Edward's locker.

Edward didn't come to school the next day, or the next, or the next and finally Jacob worked up the courage to ask about him and the secretary told him that he was withdrawn from the school's computer systems. Edward wasn't coming back and he never did…not until now.

**x x x**

Jacob wasn't sure how far he had walked when he came to a brightly lit diner, the _only_ decent looking place stuck in the middle of a town that barely passed being described as a _slum_. It didn't look busy, but it looked warm and friendly. He needed warm and friendly right now, and, well, he wouldn't turn down a cup of coffee either. However, he didn't immediately go in. He simply stood and stared, and then his eyes fell on another face he thought he'd never see again.

Her name wouldn't come to mind, but he knew she was Edward's older sister—the out-going one, the queen of the drama club, and the most fashionable person at their quaint little high school. Again that question weighed heavily on his mind: _What was she doing here_? He had thought this young woman was destined for something greater than a diner in the bad part of town.

But, here she was, catching his gaze with a shock of recognition.

He considered walking away, pretending like he hadn't even noticed her, but he couldn't bring himself to do it—it was like she held the one end of an invisible string, the other tied to him and she was simply pulling him along. She had that same aura that her brother did, the sort that drew you in even though you knew it wasn't a good idea.

Jacob felt an aching sense of foreboding as he finally entered the diner.

"Now there's a face I never thought I'd see again!"

Her voice was the same, as was her face and her posture. Her name tag read _Alice_ and he remembered her bright, friendly smiles in high school morphing into hateful glares. "H-hey," he replied softly, hesitantly as he lifted his hand in a greeting as Alice waved him over to a seat at the front.

"Hey, yourself," Alice chirped brightly as she sat a white coffee cup in front of him before filling it with hot coffee. "What are you doing on this side of town?" she asked next, a curious look in her eye, as she set the coffee pot down before motioning to a small holder of menus behind the napkin holder.

Jacob tensed at the question and, honestly, he didn't want to answer, but the look that Alice gave him suggested that she already knew. He took a deep breath and broke her gaze, looking down at the cup of coffee in front of him. "I was, um…" he started softly, Alice having to lean over the counter separating them to hear. "I went out to _Table Top_ with some friends of mine, to celebrate finals."

Alice nearly gasped, but she choked it back and the sound that came out instead resembled a strangled cough. "_T-table Top_, huh?" she asked, though not for clarification if her high pitched, slightly worried tone was anything to go by. "Did you, uh, see any dancers?" she continued as she pulled her order pad from her apron. "I heard they've got really amazing dancers."

"I did, actually…" Jacob replied honestly before he looked up at the woman, watching as she chewed on her lower lip. "…and I saw Edward dance. I wasn't expecting to see him, and—"

"You didn't buy him, did you?" Alice interrupted almost immediately as her eyes fell back on him, holding his gaze with a heated clarity. Her voice was low, and strained, Jacob had trouble hearing her as she spoke again, her voice forceful, "Did you?"

His eyes widened at the uncharacteristically hard tone, but Jacob didn't answer. His cheeks flushed deeply and his face was heated with the display as Alice cursed softly under her breath, tearing her eyes from his own. "No! I didn't buy it! I swear," Jacob rushed to explain himself. "I took it from Quil."

He realized, just moments after he had said it, that that wasn't the smartest thing to say.

Alice was leaning over the countertop again, inches from his face so that Jacob had to lean back as she viciously hissed, "And that makes it any better?" She ignored the other costumers as they stopped eating, drinking, and chattering to turn and watch their hushed, but heated exchange. "You have _no_ business with Edward. Not after what you've done to him."

"I haven't _done_ _anything_ to him!"

Alice's jaw clenched at his word and, once again, Jacob knew he had said the wrong thing. The woman was a sight to behold in all of her anger and, for a moment, he actually feared for his wellbeing. "He _loved_ you and you _used_ him," she snarled viciously, her whispering sounding ear-splittingly loud in the quiet diner. "You used him and tossed him to the wolves."

**x x x**

_He loved you._

Her words ran through his mind, bold and strong enough to imprint into his memory. Jacob wasn't sure why it mattered and he wasn't sure why he cared, but there was something profound about what Alice told him—Edward had, maybe once upon a time and no more, loved him.

He left the diner in a rush after nearly forgetting to pay for his coffee and now, he was back out in the night with no destination in mind, walking wherever his feet happened to take him. It wasn't very long before he found himself back in the parking lot, standing next to his friend's car. He stared up at the brightly lit neon sign, watching as it repeatedly flashed _Table Top_ into the darkness.

The sign stood like a beacon in the foggy night air, a beacon that led him back to Edward even though Jacob stood beneath the soft glow of the sigh, hesitating to go in. He knew, even as he stood staring at the door, that he'd go in and find Edward even if it was only to see if what Alice said was true.

He noticed, once he finally entered the bar, that there were less people mulling about and engaging in the various questionable activities the club had to offer. Jacob thought, just for a moment, that the lack of people would make finding Edward easier, but then he caught sight of his two best friends sitting by the bar and drinking.

Quil and Embry had yet to notice him, but Jacob felt his resolve waver. His friends provided an out that he couldn't afford to take at the moment, but the urge to grab onto it so he'd never have to face the reality bestowed upon him was strong. He resisted its lure, however, as he continued into the back of the establishment, intending on going to the room where he had met with Edward earlier in the night, with the hope that the older man was still there.

The blue room was in his sight when Jacob was stopped halfway down the hall that led to it, a small, pale hand preventing him from getting there. He felt an impatient panic rise within him before he found himself turning, ready to snap at whoever stopped him, but he caught himself upon seeing a slight, red-haired woman smiling up at him.

"Looking for someone, love?"

The woman was exceptionally beautiful, almost inhumanly so, as she waited patiently for his answer as though she was used to men randomly clamming up around her. "Well?" she prompted him with a soft little chuckle, stepping closer to Jacob as her hand slid down from his shoulder to his chest.

She was pressed against him, completely invading Jacob's personal space with a mischievous spark in her hazel eyes. "Cat got your tongue, sweetie?" she purred, leaning up to him and she would've kissed him if Jacob hadn't turned his head at the last moment, her lips landing on his jaw instead.

"Um, no…" Jacob replied, though he wasn't sure if he was responding to the woman's question or her advances as he brought his hands up, grasping her shoulders before gently pushing her away. "I'm looking for someone named Edward."

The woman seemed to deflate at his refusal, even as a confused look came over her face. "Edward?" she repeated before shaking her head. "I don't know anyone by the name of Edward." She stepped forward again, her features brightened and seductive as her hands came to rest on Jacob's chest. "But if you wouldn't mind someone by the name of Tanya, I'm sure I could help you out."

Jacob shook his head, stepping away from the young woman once again. "No, I'm sorry, but I really need to find him," he replied as Tanya finally seemed to give up, drawing a deep, slightly annoyed sigh before crossing her arms over her ample chest.

"Is that his stage name?"

He paused at that question, blinking for a moment before he remembered that Edward hadn't been introduced by his given name. "No, no I guess it isn't."

"_Well_? What is it?"

"Masen."

**x x x**

Tanya offered no explanation as she led him to a room, the only thing she gave him was a warning that the show was already in progress, but he wouldn't have to worry about paying to see it. It was her treat tonight and then with a small, devilish grin she left him.

Jacob watched her go with a frown, wondering about that grin before he let it go and turned to the door to open it. He let himself in and was immediately overwhelmed with the urge to leave again. He had entered the room expecting to see Edward and _finally_ have the chance to talk to him, but instead he was led to a room with no less than half a dozen people inside, watching what he thought was a porn movie.

Through his shock, Jacob noticed the general sense of arousal that permeated the room. It was thick, heavy, and stifling. It made Jacob uncomfortable to stand there against the door, closed against his back, hearing people's heavy breathing while they watched the couple fucking on screen.

_"Fuck, yes!_ _You're so tight, so perfect."_

Jacob jumped at the dull, ringing smack that followed the declaration, his eyes darting to what he thought was a large production screen, but in fact it was a pane of glass—a sort of window that offered a view into the next room.

Heat rushed to his face upon looking; he felt it coil and twist within his stomach before it rushed south, his cock hardening and thickening as he watched the two men. Shame made his heart ache because he couldn't believe what he saw, though there was no denying it. He didn't _want to_ believe it, but the proof was playing out before his very eyes.

He watched, because he couldn't tear his eyes away, as a finely built man plowed into Edward—_his_ Edward—with an almost animalistic edge. It sparked something within Jacob, something that ignited a possessiveness in him so fierce it frightened him as he watched.

Jacob leaned against the door, unable to move because of a sudden onslaught of feelings the sight before him brought on. He wanted to look away, but he couldn't—not when Edward's hazy green eyes found his own, and Jacob remembered the look in Edward's eyes. The look that captivated him once upon a time. Edward's eyes hadn't looked empty when they were having sex.

Edward was bound and gagged, completely at the blond man's mercy as Jacob watched Edward lay across the platform and take the forceful thrusts. He didn't look like he was enjoying himself and Jacob was almost positive that no one else could see that, or if they did, they didn't care so long as they got off.

Empty green eyes spoke volumes and Jacob found himself fighting against the urge to cross the room and rescue Edward from the other man. It was strong, powerful, and so overwhelming that Jacob had to tear his attention away. Choking back his rising emotion, Jacob tore open the door and disappeared out of the room with reddened cheeks and burning eyes.

Jacob tore through the club, ignoring those around him as he stopped in front of the bar and ordered a stout drink to start himself down the road to forgetting what he had just been subjected to. He threw the first drink back and then ordered a second, he nursed it as he nursed the jumble of confusion his emotions had become.

He had finished his second drink and was ordering a third when he felt the weight of a hand come to rest on his shoulder, and a familiar voice whispering, "It's on me."

"What are you doing here?" Jacob asked, not having to look to know that it was Edward who was behind him. "Don't you have a…_client_?" He spat the word out as though it left a bad taste in his mouth before he reached for the drink the bartender passed to him. He drank it all in one gulp before setting the glass down, cringing at the taste.

Edward ignored his questions, sinking into the barstool next to him. "Why'd you come back?" he asked, not looking at Jacob as he motioned for the bartender to get him a drink as well. "I never expected to see you again when you walked out."

A soft snort left Jacob as he cradled the empty glass in his hands. "Yeah, well, I didn't expect to run into your sister either," he replied dryly, almost bitterly as he glanced at the man next to him. "When I came back to talk to you, I didn't expect to find you with another man either."

There was silence as Edward took a drink and then he let out a soft sigh. "It's my job," he reminded the other, turning to looking at him with a deep frown. "You don't own me, Black. You never have."

"You looked so…"

"Why are you here, Jacob?" Edward cut him off, turning back to his drink as he waited for an answer, playing with the rim of his drink.

It was Jacob's turn to fall silent. He looked away and looked down at his own empty glass, remembering how empty Edward's eyes had looked minutes before. "Alice told me that you were in love with me," he finally replied, not looking at the other man out of fear. He wasn't sure why, but he needed to hear the truth from Edward. Even if it was rejection. "Is it true?"

"Once upon a time it was."


End file.
